Far Too Long
by QuinntheEskimo
Summary: its been forever since Germany and Italy talked... but why? and how come Germany cant admit to prussia that he love the pasta loving idiot?


Awww... I love this story. It's one of my favorites that I've written. Another one that kind of wrote itself. Anyways... poor Germany is so sad. He's been all alone for years, because he's afraid to be rejected. Silly Germany, we know Italy loves you! :)

And by the way, Prussia makes me laugh. I love him. His narcissism astounds me. But he's so incredibly funny! So I had to write a story about Prussia and Germany!

Anyways, enjoy, my dears!

…...

Ludwig sat at his desk, mounds of paperwork before him. But instead of working, he stared off into space, lost in thought.

"Ehrlich gesagt, West. If you miss him this much, just go talk to him! You're being stupid, _bruder."_

Snapping out of his reverie, he looked at his brother and retorted, "What are you talking about? I'm fine."

"_Mein gott_, _bruder,_ are you that dense? You miss the little pasta-loving fool, and you won't even admit it to yourself! How long has it been since you last spoke, anyways?"

Without even thinking, he replied "Twelve years, seven months, and twenty-five days."

"_Mein bruder, _quit this foolishness. You're only making yourself miserable."

Ludwig stared at Gilbert, sapphire eyes meeting ruby. He knew Prussia was just concerned about him. But he couldn't understand. After World War II had ended, things had become so strained between them. Feliciano had become so distant, so uncomfortable in his presence, that eventually, Ludwig had quit trying to talk to him. In the dozen years since he had last spoken to the Italian, the pain hadn't lessened. If anything, it had gotten worse. And as much as Gilbert tried, he couldn't understand Ludwig's reluctance to try again. But the German knew that if Italy were to reject him outright, he would lose any will he had left to live. So he just kept his distance.

"East, I can't. I know you don't understand, and I can't explain. Just...just realize I cannot, and leave it at that."

Gilbert shook his head and left the room

…...

He hated going behind his brothers back like this, but he just couldn't take it anymore. Enough was enough. Ludwig deserved to be happy; after all he'd been through. And if he, the awesome Prussia, could not do it, well, then, nobody could.

He picked up the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Romano. It's been a long time... I hope I'm not interrupting you and Spain... hold on, don't hang up on me! We need to discuss something..."

…...

"Come on, Ludwig! You spend all day at that desk and accomplish nothing! Come out to dinner with me!" Gilbert wheedled. "It will do you some good to get out of this house."

Ludwig sighed. He knew his conceited brother would give him no rest until he agreed. "Where should I meet you?" he asked

"Oh, no. I will take you myself. If I tell you to meet me somewhere, you will conveniently get busy and not come!" Since that was exactly what Ludwig had planned to do, he really couldn't argue. Gilbert continued. "We leave in two hours. Get ready to go. If you're not, I'll just drag you as you are!"

Ludwig looked down at his black tank and fatigues, and sighed again. "I'll be ready, _bruder.__"_

_ …..._

Gilbert pulled the Mercedes up in front of a restaurant that Ludwig didn't recognize. Hardly surprising, though, since he didn't really go out much anymore. The Prussian led him in, and the maitre'd, recognizing him, led them right away to a private dining room.

"Make yourself comfortable, _bruder._ I am going to talk to the chef. I'll be back in a moment." Gilbert announced, and then left the room.

By this time, Ludwig had realized that his brother was up to something. But he was utterly shocked when Feliciano walked through the door moments after Gilbert left. _I should have known!_ He grumbled inwardly.

"Germany! How surprised I am to see you!" the little Italian exclaimed. Just hearing his voice was like a knife to Ludwig's heart.

"I am sorry, Italia. It seems that _mein bruder_ has tricked us. I'll just go now..." he began to walk towards the door, when the smaller man stepped in his path.

"Wait! Germany... if Mr. Prussia went to all his trouble, we should really just enjoy the meal..."

Surprised, the German man just stared at him. "I...I suppose your right..." he admitted and sat back down.

Just then, the waiter came in with menus. Of course, Italy ordered pasta, and for simplicity, Ludwig ordered the same. By the time the waiter had come back with their drinks and left again, they had run out of small talk. An awkward silence ensued.

"Ludwig... why did you leave me alone for so long?" the Italian man asked in a small voice.

"Feliciano..." Ludwig struggled for words. "I...I just... you seemed so uncomfortable around me. I hated seeing you so unhappy, so I just... absented myself."

The small man stood up and came around the table. He knelt down in front of the German. "Ludwig... I just didn't know what to say...how to tell you... I... ti amo, Ludwig! I've loved you so much, and for so long. And I was terribly scared and I-"

Ludwig put a finger on Feliciano's lips. He moved his hand o stroke his cheek, losing himself in the amber eyes that stared into his.

"Feliciano, Ich liebe dich auch. I have loved you for far too long, and been afraid to admit it, even to myself. All this time, all I've wanted to do is hold you..." he pulled the auburn-haired man into his lap, and Feliciano wrapped his arms around the blonde man's neck.

"Ludwig, it must be a dream. It cannot be real. Its far to perfect."

"_Nein, _my love. This is real, and I'm so grateful for it."

Ludwig bent his head to Feliciano's, and they met in a kiss that was so gentle, so sweet, it brought tears to his eyes.

Suddenly, the door opened, and their waiter came in carrying their meals. He promptly turned beet red, put the food on the table with record speed, mumbled something about knocking next time, and got the hell out. The two men were shocked speechless for a moment, and then began to laugh.

…...

"So, did it work?"

"_Ja._ When I walked in, they were kissing!"

Gilbert did a little impromptu happy dance. "Yes! Score one for me and my awesomeness!" He turned to Romano, who had brought his brother to the restaurant, and said "You didn't think it would work, did you?"

"I'm just glad it did, even if it is that potato-eating bastard. I was completely sick of the little twit bursting into tears every time he saw a sausage."


End file.
